scarlet red

it was
the leaving of
the scarlet red
that marked
the end
for blossoming flowers
which congested
what morning dews
produce
that introduced
a journey
to the crossroad
but before it begun
i had to bury
foreverafter
but i think
i didn’t really dig
deep enough
for the coffins
to sink
and sometimes
the ghost of the past
comes out
to haunt
but i’ve somehow
learned to move on
even at the pace
where even snails
outran me
but at least
i can still kiss
the ripping out of the heart
spells bliss
for the moment
when they birth in me
worlds that i never thought existed
or stuff i never thought mattered
but who knew
not me
that life could begin again
even after
everything i gave for
broken and shattered

and to the wind
i give a toast
to kiss the dark brewing
of a ghost
i place my trust
in the divine
in whom i’ve learned
to invite and dine
and to the leaving
of the sweet scarlet red
which i held
and i bled
sometimes to live again
life needs to embrace death.

 

speaking to the moon

Lunar libration. see below for more descriptions
Image via Wikipedia

if then a chasm
becomes our written story
of parting ways
as of now
in days
that have transpired
our lonely gazes to light

and if our distance
now colors
where our lonely feet now tread
flow down tears
for sleep
we find lacking
on empty beds

and if you so happen to speak
in the darkness when the stars
and the moon
becomes the substance of the night
please know that
I do the same
like our distance
makes us
talk to each other
like speaking to the moon.

The recurrence of the theme of:

A chasm created by an event of separation and a hope infused by imagination of two people defying the meaning of separation.

With a metaphor like “talking/speaking/gazing at the moon” which to me displays a connectedness that deconstructs the reality of being separated in ways that two people, displaying their intimate and infused hearts which reeks in the pain of being torn apart, relive their togetherness by the act of doing the same thing, being in sync, although being far apart.

I’m merely borrowing ideas from another poet, who wrote her beautiful depiction of it entitled “i hope you gaze upon the moon tonight” and from a song which a friend who was listening to entitled “talking to the moon” by Bruno Mars.

Anyway this poem is dedicated to my friend LL who directed my thoughts to an old emotion stored in my memory. There are still moments when i do feel the same way whenever i look up, and the night is clear and the moon it shines bright in the darkness.

Update: Gooseberry Garden- Poetry Picnic Week 7: Love and Loss

Come back to

There are too many questions
Playing in my mind today
Sometimes I feel
On the verge of destruction
And there’s no way coming back

Alone
Is the place I am right now
I need a hand
To help me to stand
And move along
And say goodbye

It all feels like a dream
All the yesterday’s it seems
But I guess that they were real
If I could only make you feel

There was a time when we were strangers
And a time when love it bloomed
But I guess I’m only dreaming
If the past we’d comeback to.

Shattered

UPDATE: You can hear how “Shattered” sounds like by going here.

What breaks
will never be mended
Shattered like glass
Always be broken
No room for repair
Repressing the memories
Of all of the feelings
Buried in the grave
They cannot be saved

My walk
will always be restless
The pain has set in
Hope has set sail
Just cherished beginnings
Of what used to be
Now it’s all for nothing
Hope has now ended
When you waked away.

Note: I wrote this in June right about the time of my break up. I was meddling with my guitar trying an open G tuning and somehow the melody sort of birthed the words that made up the song. I’ll probably post it when I can figure out how to convert what I recorded on my GargeBand app. My mind just doesn’t jell when it comes to tech stuff. It has a haunting melody to it to somehow mimic the emotions embedded into the lyrics and tune.